


Getaway

by Engelenmaker



Category: The Sims (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Human Experimentation, Long-Distance Friendship, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 02:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engelenmaker/pseuds/Engelenmaker
Summary: For Nervous every day is torture; he's being treated as a servant, abused and has been cruelly experimented on since he was a child. The only happiness he gets in life are from the secret phone calls and late night chats with his friend Pascal, whom he has never met in person.





	Getaway

"_It's beautiful, is it not?" The man before him asked. His eyes held a softness too them and a broad smile was plastered on his face, short black hair playfully ruffled by the wind. In his arms, a baby was sleeping._

_Before him the sky was dyed red by the setting sun, rays gliding over the dry ground of the desert. Shadows stretching and moving, never staying in one place for too long._

_Nervous couldn't help but smile, at the man, at the gorgeous view before them and then finally at himself. His heart felt like it was going to burst and his chest felt strangely tingly. His head was swimming. Was this...happiness? If so, then Nervous wished this feeling would never go away, that he would be able to bask in this moment forever._

_Him, Pascal and little-_

Startled by a shrill noise, Nervous shot up in bed with eyes wide in alarm. The lovely image that was burned on his retina slowly dissolved, leaving him to stare at the gray wall at opposite end of his room instead. It took him a few seconds to get his bearing and when he did Nervous gently shut off his alarm, his hands trembling as he did so.

It had all been a dream. Of course.

After rubbing the sleep from his eyes Nervous reluctantly got out of bed to get dressed for the day. Not that he had a lot of choice, his attire solely consisted of a white t-shirt and baggy jeans hanging off his thin frame. As he tugged off his pajama top his fingers unconsciously started to wander over to his ribs and then his scars, lingering there for a moment.

Nervous had seen himself in the upstairs bathroom mirror, all twitching limbs, sickly pale skin and disgusting looking marks. His face looked like it was half molten off his skull with his features sliding down the surface of his skin and his jaw was long and angular. Unsightly. It was as if someone had been in character creator and had hit the random button a few times before finally giving up. Nervous did not feel any resentment. He would have given up on him too.

He was glad his room didn't have a mirror.

After getting dressed Nervous went up the stairs and into the kitchen to wash his hands and to prepare breakfast. The man had become quite decent at it if he could say so himself. Slicing the meat quickly and accurately, knowing which seasoning to use and how much and baking everything till a healthy brown crisp just as he knew the Beakers liked. It was one of those moments Nervous felt a little proud of himself as he looked back at how far he had come since his first attempt. He had been but a child back then, not even tall enough to reach the top cabinets. The failure of that time had been etched into his memory. Nervous had been forced to clamp his hands around hot metal as punishment. The skin on his hands was still strangely discolored. A solid reminder to never mess up again. Nervous shook his head and started to prepare the coffee, there was no time to dwell on the past.

Once the aroma of breakfast and fresh coffee wafted through the kitchen, Nervous could hear two sets of footsteps coming from the main stairs. Quickly he set down the plates and poured the last bit of coffee into the mug just as Circe and Loki Beaker entered the room.

Circle was a tiny woman but she carried herself as if she was taller than all. Her sharp eyes took in every piece of information and her mouth was as wicked as her personality. Studious and headstrong but cruel and impatient. Nervous had feared her since his first day at the house so many years ago and Circe was more than often the star of his many nightmares. Sometimes he wondered if she was an evil robot instead of a human with a heart.

Loki was tall, easily dwarfing both Nervous and Circle. Possessing the classic movie villain look combined with his height made him an imitating man. But compared to his wife Loki was considered the lesser evil of the two, proud and lazy but somewhat charismatic and brave. His hands were always rough when he strapped Nervous to the machine and as a child, Nervous had hoped that one day a hero would come to save him and defeat Loki. Said hero never came.

These two were Nervous' adoptive parents, his tormentors and probably one day also his executioners. A shiver ran through Nervous' spine at that thought and he swallowed thickly. Yet clad in colorful pajamas with fluffy slippers covering their feet they looked like normal people. A normal couple. A normal couple with their strange, twitchy and deformed adopted son who had made his hardworking parents breakfast. How sweet.

Nervous took a step back as the Beakers settled down into the chairs and he demurely cast his gaze to the ground. The man's hands suddenly had a life of his own and he hid them behind his back as his fingers started fidgeting uncontrollably, stretching, bending and rubbing against each other. It was one of his many annoying ticks. Being in Circe and Loki's presence always made him quite nervous. But the couple ignored him, focusing instead on their breakfast and each other. Nervous busied himself with clearing away as to have something to do with his hands and he felt himself slowly being able to breathe a little easier. No attention was better than bad attention and if he was lucky they would ignore him till after dinner. It was only a few hours away and he savored the time that he had until then.

The sounds of chairs scraping against the floor brought Nervous back to attention. He stepped in to take their empty plates and mugs and deftly washed them in the sink. As the Beakers headed upstairs to get dressed for work Nervous found himself drifting towards the front on the house. Instead of a door the house had three giant arches, leaving the living room and part of the kitchen open from the outside. Nervous personally didn't like it, it made him feel exposed. But nobody ever came up here. Nobody except for the mail girl, who was already walking down the steps leaving a rolled up newspaper behind. Nervous had hoped that one day a passerby would come and hear the screams coming from the house as he was tortured once again. So far, nobody had ever complained about the noise nor had anyone come to his rescue. If someone had heard him they most likely did not care. Nobody did.

So Nervous had tried to rescue himself. There...had been a couple of escape attempts in his youth but those had evidentily all ended in disaster. No matter where he went, they'd always find him. Always.

Nervous unrolled the newspaper and peeked at the cover. Today marked the anniversary of Bella Goth's disappearance. Nervous did not know much about the Bella case, only that she vanished some years ago, presumably abducted by aliens. She was probably dead already. Yet her husband has been searching for her ever since and vowed to never stop until he had found her. Nervous felt strangely jealous. He wondered, would there be someone searching for me too?

By the time Loki had stepped into car Nervous had already started cleaning the ground floor with the radio blasting upbeat pop music. He made sure not a single spot was left dirty and he prided himself on his ability to make everything shine and sparkle. Nervous liked it when everything was properly clean and so did Circe and Loki. The scent of citrus helped to calm his mind as he scrubbed away his own blood stains from the lab floor. So far it hadn't been a bad day.

Shortly after five in the evening Nervous made his way to the phone. It was time for what he was looking forward to every day and even after so many times of doing it Nervous still couldn't help but twitch nervously. With shaking hands and a twitching eyelid he dialed the number he had become so familiar with and waited with bated breath as it connected with the other side. It sometimes took a while.

"Good evening Nervous, how are you today?" Pascal's voice rang out and Nervous smiled automatically.

"I'm good, I'm good. How are you Pascal? How is the little one doing?" Pascal had told him about his encounter with aliens about two months ago, hesitantly. And at first Nervous hadn't believed him because there was no way a man could- you know? But once the older man had sent him a picture of himself with a clearly pregnant belly in their chat Nervous had reacted in astonishment. But he had found the astonishment quickly fading. After all, Pascal was still Pascal, pregnant with an alien baby or not and when he had told his friend that the other had sighed in relief. Pascal had accepted Nervous and all his ugliness so why wouldn't he accept Pascal and his baby? Not that Nervous had ever told him the complete truth about his own situation...

"The little tyke? He's very active, kicking me until I'm sore and making somersaults in my belly," He laughed softly, "I'm feeling a little tired actually. I'm due soon and today was my last day at work. Ah, I'll miss it."

Nervous could feel the sadness in his tone, and he felt bad for his friend. He wanted to go over there and cheer him up. "Make sure you get some rest, I hope your brothers are taking good care of you. You deserve it!" He sounded so upbeat that Nervous even had himself fooled.

Racking his brain Nervous tried to come up with something to say about Pascal's work. He didn't know anything about having a job and having to leave said job, so Nervous just tried his positivism angle again. "And about your work. Uh, it's only for a few months, right? After that you could go back to work again, not a problem."

"And," He added, " If you really miss it that much you could do some work things in house once you're properly recovered. Yes! But not too much, you still have to take care of yourself. You work too much!" Unconsciously he tapped his foot.

"Nervous," Came Pascal's voice, on the verge on scolding, " I am a grown man. I can take care of myself. You worry too much."

Shit, he had said wrong! Surely Pascal must hate him now. Nervous gasped and hastily apologized, trying to minimize the damage. "Ah, sorry! I'm out of line. Of course, you can. I-" He glanced around restlessly. "I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry, I know you mean well." He felt extremely guilty for forcing Pascal to reassure him but a tiny part of Nervous was glad that his friend did not hate him. Yet.

Pascal spoke again," Say Nervous, there is something I want to ask you."

The younger man stiffened and swallowed audibly. Worried thoughts consumed his mind. "Oh," He spoke quietly. "W-What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come and visit once the baby is born. We'll be holding a party with just family and close friends. You're invited."

He almost dropped the phone in sheer surprise. Him? Invited to a party? What!

Nervous opened his mouth in an broad smile. Suddenly tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt a strange sort of panic inside his chest. His arm twitched suddenly, almost knocking into the wall and Nervous took a shaky step backwards. Pascal's words were echoing inside his brain, bouncing against his skull and making his mind deaf.

"Are you...are you sure?" He croaked.

"Of course, I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't sure." His friend replied instantly.

Oh.

"Oh," Nervous said intelligently. There was truly someone that wanted to see him. His brain actually short circuited at that thought. It wasn't a surprise, really. There was so much electricity coursing through his body.

"Only if you want to. You can say no."

The man started blinking rapidly, slowly coming out of his daze. No...that was not it. He genuinely wanted _it_. He wanted to come. He wanted to see Pascal, see the baby, see other people.

But he couldn't. Circe and Loki would never let him. They did not even know about their odd friendship and if they ever found out...The computer in his bedroom was monitored and Nervous used it at day to look up cooking recipes and at night when Loki slept to message Pascal. He always wiped his chat history, leaving no traces. And the phone was an old string one, so that one was safe or so Nervous furiously hoped.

But the party...

What if-

No.

How would-

No.

Should he-

No.

Oh, hell to it all!

He let out a soft laugh, slumping against the wall, his limbs strangely feeling like lead all of a sudden. On the other side of the phone Pascal was still waiting for a reply. Nervous answered him.

"Pascal, I would _love_ to come."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you find any grammar or spelling errors please let me know.


End file.
